


Flirt like a Robot

by thekingslover



Series: At the Bar [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Established Relationship, M/M, Some dude creeping on Cas, fallen!cas, possessive!dean, protective!Dean, the non-con doesn't actually happen to be clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean implies Castiel’s flirtations are a bit stiff, the fallen angel, afraid his hunter might become disinterested in him, seeks out a way to practice. He gets in over his head with a drunk who may or may not be a vampire. Dean rushes in. Misunderstandings and then fluff ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flirt like a Robot

“C’mon, Cas. Get into it,” Dean had said when Castiel didn’t understand one (or several) of his many flirtatious references. “Flirting with you is like hitting on a robot.”

The words stung, maybe more than they should have. Castiel knew even then that Dean was joking, but something about the words or their delivery struck into Castiel’s gut. This was just one more failure for him as a human. Couldn’t drive. Couldn’t cook. Couldn’t sleep until exhausted. Dean was a flirtatious man, and Castiel in this aspect couldn’t deliver what Dean needed. How long would it be before Dean sought fulfillment elsewhere?

Castiel faked a smile, though Dean never looked up from the computer screen to see it. He also didn’t notice when Castiel walked right out of the bunker, stopping only to grab his shoes, jacket, and phone.

With Dean’s help, Castiel had been learning how to drive and to cook. But in the art of flirtation, Castiel couldn’t ask for his help. He needed to learn on his own, lest Dean grow bored. This was why he took the long walk to the nearest bar. This was why he sat down beside a man he had no interest in and tried to spark conversation.

This was how he got in way over his head.

All Castiel said was, “Hello,” and the man looked at him in such a predatory manner – with eyes scanning him from head to foot and back again – that Castiel wanted to turn right around and walk straight back to Dean. His will to learn, to be what Dean needed, was the only reason he didn’t move.

“Hey there,” the man said. His words slurred.

“What are you drinking?” Castiel asked stiffly, remembering the courting procedures he had seen on television.

“I’d like to be drinking you, beautiful,” the man said.

Drinking him? Castiel narrowed his eyes. Was this man a vampire? Without his angel powers, Castiel couldn’t be sure. Though he also wondered if consumption of bodily fluids was perhaps yet another form of human flirtation he did not understand and – oh. The man meant sex. Castiel flushed and his stomach twisted. He had no desire to learn that particular lesson with this man.

“I merely intended to purchase an alcoholic beverage for you,” Castiel said, trudging forward only with Dean in mind. He needed to learn how to please Dean. He couldn’t lose him.

The man laughed and placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel tensed every muscle so that he wouldn’t flinch away at the unwanted touch.

“Let’s just get out of here, eh?” the man said, leaning close. Odd, when Castiel stood this close to Dean, he never felt so repulsed. He might actually retch. Every single thing about this felt wrong. The man continued, “You don’t need to convince me. One look at you and I’m begging.”

He wobbled as he stood from his stool and reached for Castiel with both arms. Castiel slunk away. He couldn’t do this. Wouldn’t. He wanted Dean to be happy and satisfied but –

“Getting cold on me already? Something I said?”

“I believe I gave you the wrong impression,” Castiel said, stepping back, moving until the empty stool between them. “I’m not interested.”

“Don’t be that way, baby,” the man said, and Castiel frowned at the nickname. When Dean called him baby, he had felt warm and safe and happy. Now, he just felt cold and sick.

“No, thank you,” Castiel said. “I do apologize for the misunderstanding.” He started for the door, eager to get back to the bunker and Dean and forget this ever happened. But when he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed the man following him. A bit of fear spliced through Castiel. Was this man truly a vampire after all? And Castiel had left the bunker without any of his weapons – careless. So careless.

He detoured at the last moment and hurried toward the bathroom. The simple room had a toilet, a sink, and a lock on the door that Castiel flicked closed the moment he slipped inside. He didn’t know what else to do except call Dean and Sam, especially when a pounding at the door began.

“You’re supposed to leave the door unlocked, baby!”

With haste, Castiel retrieved his phone from his pocket. He swallowed hard when he realized he had 4 missed calls. He checked them as Sam had shown him once, and all were from Dean.

“Playing hard to get, eh?” the man outside called. The door rattled on his hinges.

Castiel pushed Dean’s name on the screen. Dean answered on the first ring.

“Cas?”

Dean’s voice, even strained, was such a comfort that Castiel’s own broke on his reply, “Dean.”

“Where are you?” Dean’s voice strengthened but drained of all emotion. Castiel recognized what Sam had called ‘hunter mode.’

“Don’t be angry,” Castiel said, because he knew Dean often hid his feelings this way.

“Talk later. Where are you?”

The door cracked. The man had begun kicking.

“What the hell was that?” Dean said, losing his cool façade. “Cas?”

Castiel rattled off the name of the bar so fast he didn’t even remember doing so. “Please hurry. I think he might be a vampire.”

For seven and a half long minutes, Castiel listened to the angry shouting of the drunken man on the other side of the door. Such lewd calls were surely not humanity’s idea of flirtations? Nor was such persistence in the face of obvious rejection? If this was flirtation, then Castiel wanted none of it. He’d gladly accept being a robot. He just wanted to go home.

Castiel knew the minute that Dean arrived, when the calls and knocks stopped abruptly, replaced by a heavy thud and a few loud sobs.

“What the hell, man?” the drunk man cried out.

“You better hope you didn’t touch him, you son of a bitch,” Dean said.

“Dean?” Castiel called through the door.

“He’s mine,” Dean growled.

“He came onto me!”

“A locked door wasn’t enough for you to get the hint?”

Another loud thud and the whimpers stopped.

Castiel unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Dean?”

Dean’s back was to him. The drunken man was unconscious on the ground.

“Let’s go, Cas,” Dean said and started for the exit without looking back. Castiel followed without argument.

Neither spoke again until the Impala pulled to a stop outside of the bunker.

Dean, with both hands still on the wheel, whispered, “You don’t want me anymore.”

“What?” Castiel gasped.

Dean looked at him with such a broken, hopeless expression – eyes wide and hurt, lips pressed together, frowning – that Castiel’s heart clenched inside of his chest.

“No –” Castiel started, saying the wrong word first. Dean swung open his door and slammed it behind him. “Dean, wait!”

Castiel fumbled with the handle to his door, hands still shaking from his earlier fright, but he managed to escape the Impala and reach Dean before he could make it into the bunker. Castiel grabbed his arm and swung him around until Dean’s back was flat against the closed door.

This close, chest to chest, Castiel could see the full damage of his careless words and acts. Tears welled in Dean’s eyes, though he looked upward to keep them from falling.

“It’s not like that,” Castiel said. “I love you.”

“Yeah?” Dean fake laughed, a sound that died as soon as it began. “So you go to the bar and try to pick up some other guy? Did you even know what you were doing?”

“I hadn’t intended to fornicate with another.” Castiel shook his head for emphasis.

At last, Dean looked at him, though the pain and disbelief in those green depths threatened to drown the fallen angel in sorrow and regret.

“I wanted to practice flirtations,” Castiel said. He bit his lip to keep it from quivering. “I don’t want to be a robot.”

Just like that, the disbelief in Dean’s eyes was replaced with understanding, though the pain remained. Castiel glanced away, unable to face Dean like this.

“Cas –”

“I want to give you what you need,” Castiel said. “I know I’m inadequate –”

Without warning, Dean reached for Castiel and flipped their positions, pining the fallen angel against the door. Dean stepped close, slotting their hips together. His fingers laced through Castiel’s hair. His mouth hovered over Castiel’s. Warm breath puffed over Castiel’s lips.

“You are exactly what I need,” Dean said. “You are everything.”

Castiel clawed at Dean’s shoulders, desperate to keep his hunter close. “You still want me?”

“I’ll always want you,” Dean replied. Lips pressed to lips. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Castiel agreed, returning all of Dean’s soft kisses and the deeper ones too.

**Author's Note:**

> ~5/18/13
> 
> Yeah, haha, I was in a mood. Is it obvious? Thanks for reading!


End file.
